


look, it's not my fault that you sprinted in front of my car in the middle of the night

by canislycaon



Series: meet-cutes [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 12:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19853263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canislycaon/pseuds/canislycaon
Summary: prompt: i hit you with my car/a cat stole my wallet





	look, it's not my fault that you sprinted in front of my car in the middle of the night

**Author's Note:**

> just a short and sweet one-shot i did to get back into writing. hope you enjoy!

The first thing Cassian thought was how unbelievably uncomfortable he was. That and how much his head was killing him. Sore and stiff and aching all over, he felt like he’d spent the night sleeping on concrete after being knocked unconscious. Every movement was laborious and discomforting, like his joints weren’t used to moving. The pounding in his head wasn’t helping anything either. Cauldron, this was miserable.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I feel like I got hit by a car.”

“That’s because you did,” someone to his right said. The voice was cool and female but not one he recognized. 

He tried to open his eyes to look at her but his eyes felt like they’d been glued shut. He groaned again.

“Do you need help opening your eyes?”

“Yes,” he said, wincing. 

Then, her gentle fingers were carefully prying open his eyes, one by one. Not that it really mattered given that his vision was blurred and his eyes couldn’t stay on the same spot for too long. 

“Who are you and why are my eyes wrong?”

“Your vision problems are a side effect of the probable concussion. And maybe a side effect of the morphine.”

“Can you lower the dosage, please?”

“Sure.” She leaned across his bed and fiddled with what he presumed was his IV drip. “I only backed it down a little, in case the full amount of pain is overwhelming.”

“Thanks, who are you, though?”

“I’m Nesta. I…” Her blurred facial features moved around a bit, perhaps in a grimace. “…hit you with my car.”

“You hit me with your car…” he repeated slowly. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s not my fault, it was an accident,” she snapped, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. “What sort of an idiot sprints out of an alley into the street in the middle of the night?”

“I sprinted from an alley into oncoming traffic?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it ‘traffic’—it was just me out there. And the cat that brought me your wallet.”

“Fuck!” Cassian yelled, startling Nesta. “That damn cat stole my wallet! That’s why I was running! I was chasing him to get it back!”

Nesta pressing down on his chest lightly with one hand and said, “it’s good that you remember but you need to stop yelling.”

“That cat almost got me killed!”

“You were nowhere near death, and the cat brought back your wallet eventually.”

He opened his mouth the yell some more but stopped when he realized he couldn’t turn his head to look at her better. “Why am I in a neck brace?”

“Just a precaution, there’s nothing wrong with your neck or spine other than some whiplash—"

There was a knock on the door and a nurse poked their head in. 

“I see our patient’s awake,” she said cheerfully. “I thought I heard voices in here.”

“Yes, and he’s definitely concussed. Although he does remember why he sprinted into the street.”

“A cat stole my wallet!”

The nurse blinked at him.

“It’s true,” Nesta offered. “The cat returned the wallet.”

“Ohhhkay,” the nurse said. “I’m just going to shine this little light in your eyes and then ask you a few more questions, okay?”

Cassian nodded and the nurse set about shining a tiny light in his eyes and asking him some easy general questions that he answered correctly, if not quickly.

“And do you remember where you were before…the cat stole your wallet?” the nurse asked.

“Yeah, uh,” he took a deep breath, “yeah, I was out at a club with Az and Rhys and Mor and I went outside to get some air because this guy showed up that I hate because he’s a d—uh, jerk, and I had my wallet out to give some money to a homeless guy and this _demon cat from hell_ came out of _nowhere_ —"

“So you remember quite a bit. No amnesia is always good.” The nurse smiled. Probably. “You are concussed, though, so we still have to keep you under observation. Luckily, you haven’t suffered any traumatic injuries: no spinal injuries, internal bleeding, or brain trauma. Although,” she added quickly, glancing at Nesta, “we will, of course, run another CT scan before you’re discharged.”

“Okay,” Cassian said slowly because he had no idea what a CT scan was. “Thanks.”

The nurse nodded and looked at Nesta. “Just, uh, keep him awake, and I’ll be back with some ice.”

“What was that about?” he asked after the nurse had gone.

“Oh, they all hate me because I insisted on double checking all of your results myself.”

Cassian frowned. “Are you a doctor?”

“No, but I did graduate from medical school.”

“Fancy. What’s a CT scan?”

“It’s x-ray imaging of your body. You really only need another head CT scan but they’ll probably run a full body one just in case.”

“‘Just in case’ meaning ‘because they don’t want to put up with you if they don’t’?”

“Pretty much.”

“What’s the ice for?”

“Your shoulder and neck. You ready to hear about your injuries?”

Cassian nodded.

“Most of your injuries are from landing on the pavement. I very nearly didn’t hit you at all. The only injury from the car is a bruise on your right leg.” She pulled back the blanket to show him the yellowing purple bruise on his lower leg. “So that need will need a little rehab but is otherwise fine.” She flipped the blanket back over him. “Your right wrist is sprained from when you tried to catch yourself on the pavement and you’ll have to wear the brace for a couple of weeks.”

That wasn’t so bad, Cassian thought. At least it wasn’t broken. He could wait a few weeks to punch Eris in the face. 

“You know about the whiplash, which will last for a week at the most. Your left side is a different story. That whole side is basically one big bruise. You landed hard on your left shoulder. So hard that I’m surprised it wasn’t broken or dislocated. That bruise is the worst one; it’s almost black. You’ll have to use the sling for at least a month, probably six weeks. And you’ll need a lot of rehab.”

Cassian winced. He could already tell that not being able to use his left arm was going to drive him crazy.

“Your ribs are bruised, too. Thankfully not broken or fractured. Your left tibia is, though. That’s your—"

“Lower leg bone.”

“Yes. The way you landed caused a hairline fracture. Not so bad, all things considering. And they gave you a walking cast so you won’t need crutches.”

“That’s good, because I can’t use them.”

“Exactly.”

They lapsed into awkward silence for a moment, until the nurse came back with a sack of ice, which was, frankly, much colder than he remembered ice being, for his shoulder.

“Hold still,” the nurse said, after Cassian flinched violently at the contact. 

“Don’t you have any warmer ice?” he asked.

Nesta snorted and the nurse sighed good-naturedly. “You can take it off in ten minutes, but not until then. Your CT scan is scheduled for just before lunch, and then we’ll see about getting you discharged.”

Cassian managed to thank her before she left, leaving him alone with Nesta once more.

After another few minutes of silence, Cassian opened his mouth, but before he could form words, Nesta was speaking.  
“They couldn’t reach your emergency contact but I called the emergency contact in your phone—"

“You hacked my phone.”

Nesta’s arms tightened over her chest. “I’d hardly call holding your thumb to the fingerprint reader on your phone hacking—"  
“I would but go on.”

“If you would stop interrupting me—”

“I will, promise.”

Cassian couldn’t see her expression but he felt confident it was exasperated. 

She flicked her hair over her shoulder before continuing. “Well, I left messages for your most important person so I’m sure someone will be here soon.”

“Okay,” Cassian said. “How are you?”

“I…excuse me?”

Mother above, did this woman never get asked after her health? “I asked how you’re doing, how you’re feeling.”

“I-I mean I didn’t just get hit by a car.”

“No but you hit someone with a car, that must be stressful.”

“I…yes, it is,” Nesta admitted, before sinking into what was most likely a chair. 

It occurred to Cassian that she may have been standing the entire time they’d been at the hospital. 

Nesta ran her hands through her hair a few times before tucking it behind her ears. “I’m…tired, I guess. I,” she sighed. “I flew in yesterday on a long-haul red eye, and then I went straight to a bunch of meetings and then a dinner, and then I hit this absolute moron,” Cassian suppressed a grin, “with my _rental car_ , so I haven’t slept in a while.”

“Why the hell did you need a rental car in the city?”

“My sisters and I were supposed to have a long weekend together upstate but obviously that didn’t go to plan.”

Cassian winced, which moved his neck, which moved his shoulder, which made him wince more. “I’m sorry I ruined your weekend.”

“I’m sorry I _hit you with my car_.”

They both laughed a bit at that. 

“You could probably,” Cassian started, “you could still go, it’s not that late—"

Nesta shook her head. “They left hours ago; they’re long gone.”

Cassian frowned. He felt very sure his brothers would not go on vacation if he had just hit someone with his car. 

“It’s fine,” Nesta said quickly. “I told them to go. They could use the break.”

“I’m guessing you could, too.” Nesta shrugged, uncomfortable. “Do you…if you want to go home, I mean, I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“Oh,” Nesta said, taken aback. “I don’t, um, I don’t have a place here, and I didn’t make a hotel reservation because of the…”

“Weekend upstate, yeah.”

“Yeah.” There was a stretch of silence before, “I can go, if you want, I know you need to rest and everything.”

Cassian’s heart clenched in his chest. “No! No, I don’t want you to go, I was just saying, you know, because you haven’t slept—"

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

Another stretch of silence. 

“So.” Cassian looked around awkwardly, fingers fidgeting with the scratchy hospital sheets. “What are concussed people allowed to do?”

“Rest, mostly.”

“Rest is for squares. What else?”

“Listening to podcasts, I guess?” She shifted around in her seat. “Or talking to people.”

“Let’s talk,” Cassian said eagerly. “I like talking.”

Nesta laughed through her nose. “I never would have guessed.”


End file.
